Hades and Persephone: A Fated Love

Life in Olympus

Hades didn't visit those first six months. I watched for him every day, peering into the shadows or the stillness of the woods. But they were always cold. Always empty.

Some days, I wondered if our time together had only been a strange dream of my feverish imagination. If it weren't for the ring he had given me, I might wonder if I were mad. Which would surely make it awkward to see the real Hades on his rare visits to Olympus.

Luckily, I also had the teasing of the gods as reassurance.

"I must know," Aphrodite began one day. She had sought me out beside the rivers, something she had never done before. "I've only heard rumors from the nymphs but how is Hades?"

"He's dutiful in his work. He can be a brutal disciplinarian when he needs to be, but most of the time he's very kind and very generous," I told her.

Aphrodite didn't yawn, but her voice was flat as she said, "I was asking about him in the bedroom."

"I know."

The gods were worse. Always talking over each other to make jokes of how Hades must have cashed in every immortal favor to get a wife at all, let alone Demeter's daughter. Ares always stewed in these conversations, grumbling about how Zeus didn't have to promise me, of all the goddesses, away.

I often sought solace in the only corner of Olympus that might have a shadow of understanding to rest in. Hephaestus's workshop was spacious, but he always dwelled there alone beside his craft. Luckily, he didn't mind a bit of company.

"Do they ever stop talking?" I asked him once. His hammer struck the anvil with newfound vigor.

"No," he grumbled and finished the new diadem he had been crafting for Aphrodite for months.

Although I still didn't take it back, I felt sorry for what I had said all those months ago about his marriage. I didn't want to see Aphrodite tamed, but Hephaestus was a miserable fool still in love with her after everything. It was impossible wish, but I wanted them both to be happy.

"At least Hades is handsome," he told me, wiping his brow. "And when you succumb to his darkness, they'll understand your match."

"What do you mean, succumb to his darkness?" I laughed.

He didn't smile, but his eyes glinted in a way that told me he wasn't offended. It was the closest I had ever gotten to seeing him express actual joy since I'd begun spending time with him.

"Hades is outcast from Olympus because he is not of this celestial world. He is dark, and he is different. They cannot understand how a beautiful goddess could choose a subdued, quiet life in the underworld with a subdued, quiet god."

"And we all know about the cruel side of him. It's necessary for his work," he said. I watched as he fired up the furnace and a blast of heat wafted between us in the forge. "If there's any of that same cruelty in you, he'll bring it out."

I hesitated. Hades never had actually fed Pirithous to the dogs and he had never cut off his hands. Not while I was around, at least. But if he had, I don't think I would have turned away.

Being in his world, I lived by his culture. Played by his rules. It was so easy to forget that elsewhere, I was expected to be the blushing goddess I left as. And in most ways, I still was. At least, I thought I was.

"The gods here aren't any better than he is," I said, a bit defensive. Hephaestus turned and studied me.

"I don't disagree," he said. "But their cruelty is different. No better. But different."

I didn't know what he meant, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. I stood to go, thinking it best not to ask for that iron bed frame now. Maybe another time. The moment I left his workshop, a familiar pair of gods appeared to walk beside me. Hermes and Helios: the best gossips in heaven.

"Where are you going now?" Helios asked. His hands were strong from commanding his chariot each day, and I glanced at the skies, wondering when he would be off. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

"I don't know. Wherever I want, I suppose," I replied.

"We all see you waiting for him," Hermes told me. I tried not to let any reaction show on my face. "I'm here as your friend to tell you it's no good. Hades doesn't come to Olympus."

"I know that," I said, but suddenly I was defensive again.

"I heard from your mother she isn't allowing it," Helios said from one side.

"And I heard from Hades that he's relieved," Hermes said from the other.

I faltered, wondering which bit of information came as more of a surprise. Or really, more of a betrayal.

"That can't be true," I told both of them.

"It is, and I'm only here as your friend with a bit of relevant advice on the matter," Hermes said.

"I don't need advice," I replied but the gods shared a knowing look.

"Did Hades promise you he was going to give up his dalliances with the nymphs?" Helios asked.

"He married me," I said. I didn't even know he had dalliances with nymphs. I walked a bit faster as if that might persuade them to leave me alone.

"There's no trust in an Olympian marriage. Or at least there shouldn't be," Hermes said. "Think of it this way. Hades is getting everything he, or any god, could want. Half the year with a beautiful wife he couldn't dream of, and the other half with total freedom in the dark. And Demeter is making it easy for him."

"Why are you telling me this? You weren't so concerned to help me before," I snapped, thinking of the day I had begged Hermes to save me from the underworld.

The gods weren't phased and merely looped their arms through mine as we walked.

"On the contrary, Persephone. I was the one to tell Demeter where you were when he took you," Helios said.

"And do not fear: my interest is purely selfish. I only think that when you discover Hades's, oh what shall we call them, proclivities for other females, I would like to be your first consideration of who to enact revenge with," Hermes chuckled.

I wrenched away from them, suddenly furious at the insinuations. And the fact I had no idea whether or not they were telling me the truth.

"This is none of your business," I snapped.

They held their hands up, feigning defense, but didn't even try to hide the coy smiles. I hurried to the woods alone, feeling the surge of passion I always thought Hades had appreciated. Power thrummed in my body unlike anything I had felt before our marriage.

Hades might have been perceived to be quiet and subdued, but I certainly wasn't. Not as I wept in the trees, growing new and gnarled roots with my tears until they splintered.

I stopped looking for him the very next day.